


Something About Always

by JustAPassingGlance



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-12-12 15:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11739561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAPassingGlance/pseuds/JustAPassingGlance
Summary: In the grand scheme of things, the world had caused far worse things to happen then having to pretend he was straight for a night for the sake of his daughter’s heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Technically this is a La Cage Aux Folles/The Birdcage AU. 
> 
> Technically.

The gala was in full swing; at least half the attendees were drunk and the other half were well on their way. Almost every item in the silent auction had exceeded its value and there was an intense standoff going on between Albert Georges and Anne Michaels over the Aspen Vacation Package. 

Blaine had circled through the three rooms for hours, schmoozing with the big donors and encouraging people to get their bids in. Over the years they had worked out a system: Sebastian tackled the unknowns and small-time donors while Blaine was better at getting more money out of people who had already given considerable sums and when one of them was floundering all it took was a well-practiced head tilt for the other to appear at his side. 

"About to go up?" Blaine murmured to his husband, nodding towards the stage the band had recently vacated. 

"Yup." Sebastian took a slow sip of his wine and gave his notes a quick look over. 

Discreetly Blaine checked his watch. 8:35. If he could get out in the next 10 minutes he would have more than enough time to grab a bottle of wine on his way home. "I might get a cab. I'm not feeling very well."

"Uh-huh," Sebastian muttered distractedly. He dropped a quick kiss to the corner of Blaine’s lip and turned to make his way to the side of the stage.

Blaine waited until Sebastian was fully enthralled with his speech before ducking out the door. Feeling guilty, he sent a quick text,  **Headache. Went home early. Enjoy yourself. xx** , as he directed the cab driver to his apartment via the nearest liquor store. Dashing inside, he selected a bottle of white wine in record time before rushing back to the waiting cab. For the rest of the drive he anxiously checked his phone for new texts, but aside from Sebastian's,  **feel better. home late.** , the phone remained still and silent.

The minute he made a beeline for the freezer to chill the wine then he began frantically tidying. The week had been exceptionally hectic with all the last-minute plans for the gala and scraps of paper and discarded wrappers left a trail of all the places Sebastian had been throughout their normally neat home.

Between obsessively checking his watch and putting all the dishes away, he managed to find some old candles to spread out around the living room and on the balcony. With five minutes to spare he looked around the room, content with what he had gotten done.

Another three minutes was spent digging out their bottle chiller, which they seldom had use for outside of holidays. He finally found it in the back of the pantry and quickly rinsed it out in the sink.

With the house sufficiently organize, he got the wine out of the freezer and two glasses from the cupboard. Sighing, he poured himself a glass and grimaced at the taste; he and Sebastian drank reds almost exclusively. He sighed again and topped up his glass before heading out to the balcony.

"Hello?" a voice echoed up the hallway fifteen minutes later. "I used the spare key to let myself in, hope you don't mind."

"Out here," he called back, his heart fluttering in anticipation.

"And Sebastian?"

He turned to the woman leaning against the doorframe. "Won't be home for hours. We have time."

She grinned. "Good." In seconds she was falling into Blaine's arms.

"Hello, gorgeous." He pulled back and brought up a hand to caress the side of her face before leaning and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her chocolate eyes sparkled and the smile on her lips was one that Blaine knew was only for him. "I can't believe we’ve gone so long without seeing each other. I missed you," he said warmly.

"Missed you too. So much," she pulled him back in for another hug. "Have you been working out?" she laughed. Her hands traced their way along his shoulders and down his arms.

"A little," his cheeks grew hot and he found himself thankful for the darkness hiding his blush. "Wine?" He gestured to the table where he had had already poured her a glass. "You are the only person I would ever drink this for. That, my dear, is the definition of love."

Playfully she hit his chest. 

"You said you wanted to talk about something?" Blaine settled himself into the love seat. "Something very important?"

"Yes." She said primly as sat down next to him, kicking off her high-heeled shoes and swinging her legs up onto his lap. "Very important." She nodded her head, precisely cut hair just barely brushing her shoulders.

"About?" he prompted.

"Love. Life." She reached for her glass and took a careful and dramatic sip from it. "Marriage."

Blaine, who was mid-sip himself, spluttered as he inhaled half his glass. "Excuse me?" He wheezed. "Marriage?" 

"Jason proposed. And I said yes." 

Blaine saw her entire life flash before his eyes. The first time he had held her, her first birthday. The way she had clung to him when he dropped her off at preschool and the way her face had looked pressed up against the window of the school bus on her first day of kindergarten. Soccer games and tennis matches. The way she had managed to pick him out of the audience as she took her final bow at the end of the community theater's production of The Wizard of Oz. Her 16th birthday and high school graduation. How she had tried to hide her grin as she waved goodbye to them from the sidewalk next to her freshman year dorm and the sound of her voice on the phone two days later, trying to hide the fact that she had been crying because she missed them so much.

All the moments that made her his baby girl. 

"No. Absolutely not." The words fell out of his mouth without his permission. 

"I'm in love, Daddy." Her lip jutted out to quiver at him. 

"With Jason? Barbra, You haven’t even been together a year. You meet him for the first time last spring!”

She rolled her eyes. "You sound like Sebastian right now." 

"It happens when you live with someone for 15 years." 

"I'm not too young." 

"I never said—" 

"And we're in love." 

"You haven't known him long enough."

"But I know I love him. And I know he loves me too. Three dates with Sebastian. That's all it took for you. Two weeks and three dates and you knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him." 

Blaine dug his thumbs into his temples, regretting having retold that story every year on their anniversary. He had also left out the nearly six-months of casual sex they had been having before their first official date.

Besides, it was one thing for him to have fallen head-over-heels-and-absolutely-irrevocably in love when he had been in his early 30s. It was another thing for his 20-year-old daughter to think she had done the same thing.

He stared hard into Barbra's own steely glare. What could he say? ‘No. I forbid it’, or ‘Don't even think about it, young lady. You do and you'll never be allowed in this house again’? 

The words were empty threats, even to his own ears. Not to mention hypocritical. Hadn't he thought the same at her age? That the boy he had been dating then was the one he was destined to spend the rest of his life with? He hadn't listened to anyone when they told him he was being foolish either. Besides, he knew her and saying no now would only ensure she ran off and eloped before the end of the month. 

"Can you at least promise me the wedding will be after you graduate?"

"But, Daddy,” she complained, lips battling against a grin at his quick acquiescence, “that's over a year from now,” 

"And knowing you," his fingers darted out to tickle the bottom of her foot, “It’ll take at least that long to plan.”

Laughing, she squirmed away from his fingers. “Stop! Stop!”

Blaine sighed heavily. “When did you grow up? I miss my little girl.”

Barbra took his hand in hers and squeezed it.  “Wine always did make you nostalgic.” She took his glass from him and drained the rest in one gulp.

“You’re not even old enough to legally be drinking that,” Blaine grumbled.

“You gave me my own glass! And you and Sebastian have been letting me drink since I was 16.”

That particular decision had mostly been Sebastian’s who had argued that she was going to start drinking anyways and if she was allowed to do it at home it would be less of a big deal when she was with her friends. “And we aren’t going to be getting her drunk,” he had said, “just letting her have some every now and then with dinner.”

“And speaking of Sebastian…” Barbra smiled charmingly at him. “Can you tell him for me?”

“Absolutely not, young lady. If you’re old enough to get married that you’re old enough to tell your father about it.”

“He’s going to be upset though. And you’re so much better at talking him around to things. And if he knew you were okay with it, maybe he would be too,” her lips were quivering again and her eyes were filling up with fake tears. “I just don’t want him to be disappointed in me.”

Blaine bite back the response that the best way to ensure that Sebastian wasn’t disappointed was to not get married in the first place. But he knew his ability to resist when she was looking at him like that was almost non-existent and she was right, he was much better at talking him around to things than she was.

“I respect that you’ve made a decision about this but I’m not okay with it, Barbra. I still think you’re too young.” He sighed. “And I will talk to him for you but if he wants to come yell at you, I’m not stopping him.”

Barbra smiled brightly and threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Daddy. You’re the greatest.”

“And don’t you ever forget it.”

* * *

 

"Morning," Barbra poker her head cautiously into the kitchen and took the lay of the land before skipping in and chirped settling herself on one of island bar stools. "It smells delicious in here." 

Blaine never knew what Barbra was or wasn't eating. She'd been vegetarian and vegan and for a brief period refused to eat anything with added sugars and a month where she wouldn’t even touch anything that was white. She claimed it was to teach herself discipline, but Blaine had noticed the way she had carefully followed fashion blogs and magazine trends.

But no matter what diet she claimed to be on, she could never ever say no to anything Sebastian had made.

"Is he still here?" She asked, voice dropping to a whisper. 

"He’s getting ready for work." Blaine said, shorter than he meant to, as he jerked his head in the direction of their bedroom. Faintly the echoes of a song wafted out to them. "I haven't told him about your… about you yet. He didn’t get home until after 1 and I thought he should see you first.”

Barbra nodded. 

"He made you breakfast." He bent down to open up the warming drawer and pulled out a plate piled high with French toast. 

"Do my ears deceive me or is that my Babs I hear?" Sebastian’s voice floated up the hallway before he came striding into the kitchen, hair still damp from the shower and an untied tie draped around his neck. 

"Sebastian!" Barbra jumped up from her seat and flung herself at him. Sebastian, stumbling back from the impact, wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"You should have told us you were coming home. I would have had something waiting for you when you got in," he chastised. "How long are you home for? Your dad didn't say.”

"Just a few days." she replied smoothly, although she wasn’t quite able to make eye contact with him as she said it. “I missed you guys.”

When Blaine had first met Sebastian, the idea of fatherhood was the furthest thing from Sebastian’s mind. Blaine had been Sebastian’s stress relief from his 15- to 17-hour work days and Sebastian had been Blaine’s attempt at pretending his one-night fling with heterosexuality hadn’t spun completely out of control, leaving him unexpectedly raising a baby on his own.

Their relationship hadn’t been a relationship but a series of hook-ups, some days with barely anything said between them beyond the preliminary and closing pleasantries.

They had been having sex for months before Blaine had even mentioned (casually, he thought, despite the fact that he was shaking, covered in a cold sweat and, for a breathless moment, convinced he was going to have a steaming cup of coffee thrown in his face) that he had a daughter.

They hadn’t seen each other for weeks after that, both of them suddenly caught up with work and avoiding each other and when they did meet up again it was to Blaine assuring Sebastian that he had no expectation that he ever meet his daughter and Sebastian shrugging and saying that he ‘found the whole DILF thing pretty hot.’

When they began actually dating, some four months later, it was still with no pressure or expectation that Sebastian would play any part in his home life.

It wasn’t until after she had turned 2 and they showed no signs of breaking up that Sebastian had hesitantly suggested that maybe it was time they meet, that he had been thinking about it for a while and he was afraid of losing Blaine because he didn’t know the first thing about children.

All his worrying was for nothing, as it turned out. When they met he had fallen completely in love with her—faster and harder, even, than he had fallen for Blaine—and had taken immediately to his role as a father.

It hadn’t been the most conventional way to start a family but they wouldn’t trade what they had for anything.

“Tonight,” Sebastian announced, head tilted back as Barbra deftly did his tie for him, “I’m cooking dinner. And tomorrow night, I’ll make reservations at Cagelles’.” He leaned around her to look at Blaine, “Does Jeff know she’s home?”

“ _She_  hasn’t told him yet,” she slumped back to her seat and pouted, like she always did when they talked about her like she wasn’t in the room.

Jeff had been Barbra’s nanny until she was old enough to stay home alone, although originally his position was only supposed to be temporary; a quick solution to the fact that Barbra’s mother, Rachel, had literally shown up on his doorstep with a squalling infant bundled up in her hands, sobbing about the fact that she would never be able to care for her and have the career she wanted before shoving her into Blaine’s hands and disappearing into the night.

The next morning, Blaine had shown up to the office in a bewildered daze, struggling to balance the car seat and diaper bag and figure out how he was going to see patients and take care of a 28-day-old. Nick, one of the nurses that Blaine normally worked with, had immediately called his then-boyfriend, who had just graduated college with a dual degree in theatre and anthropology and no real prospects except for a vague idea that maybe he would one day go into teaching.

A couple days of help had turned into a week, then into a month, and eventually into a full time position, until Barbra was finally old enough to be home on her own. But even after his employment had ended, Jeff and Nick stayed close to Barbra. They loved only two streets over and were still present at every holiday and birthday. And not at least telling them that Barbra was home from college for a few days would be an unforgiveable offense.

“I can let Nick know,” Blaine volunteered. “Our schedule was looking light today but I can probably afford to let him sneak out early so the three of you can go to Armand’s for ice cream.”

“And now, we both need to get to work or we’re going to be late. But I’m taking a half day, so leave any food requests on the fridge if you go out and I’ll pick up whatever we don’t have.” Sebastian hugged her close again. “It’s good to have you home.”

She kissed his cheek and beamed at his attention. “It’s good to be home.”

“I’ll try to be home early too,” Blaine tried to kiss the Barbra’s head but, seated on the stool, she was too tall and it fell closer to her temple. “And maybe,” he turned to Sebastian and pecked a kiss to his lips, “I’ll come home for lunch.”

“Aren’t I just the luckiest man in the world? Lunch with my hubby and our baby girl home for the weekend?”

“I’m not a baby!” Barbra protested and Blaine could see traces of guilt on her face. He couldn’t meet either of their eyes, knowing that his face looked the same.

“You’ll always be our baby. Dad rules.”

“I’m bigger than you are,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. Which was technically true. Blaine didn’t know where she got her height from but by 16 she had surpassed him.

“She’s got you there.” For once, Sebastian was oblivious to the undercurrent of tension. He was just happy to just enjoy his morning. “But he’s also right, you’ll always be our baby girl.”

As they launched into a round of bickering, Blaine made his escape, guilt gnawing away at him that he was, however temporarily, keeping something so big from his husband.

* * *

 

When he got home for lunch, the apartment was already filled with Sebastian’s cheerful whistling. Sighing deeply, Blaine let the door fall closed and slumped against it. He allowed himself a few deep breaths to gather his strength before striding down the hallway and into the kitchen where his husband was leafing through cookbooks.

“I ordered the hens, but I need to find a new quinoa recipe. I know she didn’t like the one I made last time, even though she pretended to. Between you and her mother it’s amazing how the acting gene didn’t even touch her. And I was thinking a crème brulee for dessert. But now—”

“Seb,” Blaine interrupted, his heart pounding in his chest, “Barbra has something to tell you. But she was afraid to do it herself.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he laughed. “She knows she can tell me anything.”

Blaine could still hear the giggles coming from her room when Sebastian had sat her down for “the talk.” He took another deep breath and reminded himself of the careful script he had spent the morning working out in his head.

“She’s engaged,” he blurted out.

"No she's not," Sebastian dismissed. "She's only 20."

“I know how old she is,” he snapped, his nerves already frayed too thin to have to think about that particular aspect of it again. Unconsciously, he grabbed his wrist and twisted it in his hand, the pressure anchoring him.

“And you’re okay with that?” Sebastian was looking like he had never seen him before.

Blaine sank into the nearest chair. “Of course I’m not. But you know how well saying no works with her. She’ll be running off to Vegas within the hour.”

“Not if we bar her windows and lock her in her room she won’t,” Sebastian muttered darkly. With violent speed, he began flipping through his cookbook.

“We’re not holding our own daughter prisoner in our house.” He sighed heavily. “We’ve talked about this.”

“We’re certainly not letting her just throw her life away on some guy she just met.”

“She didn’t exactly _just_ meet him…”

Sebastian scoffed. “Well they can’t have been dating for that long. She was with what’s-his-face last year. The one with the fascist parents.” 

Getting up from his seat, Blaine went over to the refrigerator and busied himself with choosing a drink. What he wouldn’t have given for a beer, or something stronger, but he still had patients to see that afternoon.

“Blaine…”

Blaine grabbed the orange juice and a glass from the cupboard. “Funny you should mention him.”

“She isn’t marrying that punk.”

 “He isn’t a punk. His name is Jason Archer. And his parents aren’t fascists. They’re…” he trailed off trying to think of a more diplomatic way to describe them.

“Crazed, right-wing, conservatives. That’s so much better.”

“Well,” Blaine crossed his arms over his chest, “that’s who she’s engaged to.”

“No she’s not.” Sebastian shook his head and turned back to his cookbook. “I’m thinking this one,” he pushed the book towards Blaine. “It doesn’t look too hard, we already have most of the ingredients and I can run to the farmer’s market for what we don’t have, there’s still enough time.”

“Seb,” Blaine whispered. Putting his glass down on the counter, he slid behind Sebastian and wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist. “We can’t just ignore this.” Gently, he kissed across Sebastian’s shoulders, hoping to ease the ramrod tension in them.

“I’m not ignoring anything.” He squirmed in Blaine’s arms and resumed flipping through the book until he got to the end. “I’m not.” He shoved it away and grabbed another. “And we’re not talking about this until I’ve talked to her about it.”

“Fine.” Blaine disentangled himself.

Sebastian’s hands shot out to grab Blaine’s and pulled them back around him. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Still holding Blaine’s hands in place, he turned around to face him. “You know I don’t react well to things.”

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t just storm out,” Blaine laughed, resting his head on Sebastian’s chest. “I envisioned a lot more of this conversation to have taken place in the stairwell.”

“The stairwell, huh? That seems optimistic of you.”

“My endless optimism is one of the reasons you married me.”

Sebastian smiled teasingly and pressed a kiss to the top of Blaine’s head. “It’s probably better for us that you believe that.” His fingers danced up and down Blaine’s spine. “I just need time to wrap my head around this. Then we can figure out how you’re going to talk some sense into her.” 

“You do know the only reason she didn’t tell you herself is because she was scared of how you would react. She really hates disappointing you.”

Sebastian sighed and said sadly, “I know. I would have liked to hear it from her but she’s probably right that I would have overreacted. I just wish… I wish she wasn’t growing up so fast, you know. I missed out on her first few years and I just wish… she’s too young. And this is too fast.”

“I know, she isn’t our little baby girl anymore.”

 “You know,” Sebastian said abruptly, pulling away again, “I do think that other recipe looks better. I should get to the market and pick up the ingredients we’re missing.” He grabbed up not one, but three of the books from the table. “As long as I’m out, I might as well do some of the other errands we’ve been putting off. I’ll probably be gone for an hour or two.”

“That’s not—”

“No more than three.”

“At least remember the bags!” Blaine darted over to the pantry where they kept them, but by the time he remerged with them clasped in his hand, the sound of the front door closing was already echoing up the hall.

Not even bothering to open the pantry door back up, Blaine just dropped the bags from his hand and let them fall to the ground.

Wearily he pulled out his phone and dialed his daughter’s number, which went directly to voicemail.

“I told your father. You should really talk to him. He’s out shopping for dinner and running errands,” he said darkly because Sebastian willingly running errands was an almost unheard of experience that meant he was more upset than he was letting on. “Try to find him downtown and maybe bring him some madeleines.

And if you haven’t heard from Jeff yet, he and Nick will see you at Armand’s at 3.”

He hung up the phone and started putting away the food that Sebastian had abandoned in his hasty flight out the door, feeling eager to get back to work where the biggest concern was that someone keep moving the stock of tongue depressors.

* * *

Sebastian still wasn’t home when Blaine got back at 4:15, although by the looks of the kitchen and living room, both he and Barbra had been in at some point.

He was just settling into the couch and flicking through the television channels to find something to watch his phone started ringing.

“Hi, Daddy!” Barbra said brightly the second he answered. “I’m on my—”

Blaine interrupted her, “Have you talked to Sebastian yet?”

“I did. I found him at the market and had madeleines and profiteroles on hand. Then I dragged him to get massages so he couldn’t yell at me too much,” she reported. “It put him behind schedule, so he probably won’t be home until after 5.”

“Did he say anything about dinner?”

“Not to me. And as I was saying” she huffed impatiently, “I’m on my way home now and there’s something I need to tell you.

“If you’re pregnant…” Blaine groaned, half joking. The half of him that wasn’t joking was bracing itself to experience a panic attack.

Barbra just laughed. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Just relax And maybe have a drink.” Something in her voice twisted and took on the guilty whine that meant she was going to be asking something else of him that he wouldn’t like.

“You aren’t pregnant, are you?” Panic started to claw its way to the surface and, despite his efforts to battle it back down, he still found himself drawing in a ragged, gasping breath.

“No, Daddy. I’m not pregnant. Just get yourself that drink.”

A beer, Blaine decided, wouldn’t be enough to get him through whatever conversation he was about to have. Turning his back on the refrigerator, he headed to the dining room and the liquor cabinet there. He poured himself a glass of the expensive bourbon that Sebastian was always spending too much money on and started pacing around the apartment.

By the time Barbra got home (much more than five minutes later), Blaine had collapsed back onto the couch, glass still in hand.

The living room, he had decided, was comforting. Barbra’s old art projects were still strewn around, his and Sebastian’s books fought for shelf space, and an entire wall was dedicated to family pictures. The left corner was where their Christmas tree stood every year. They had all spent sick days on the couch, and there was still a stain on the carpet (hidden by an oversized ottoman) from where Blaine and Barbra had knocked over Sebastian’s wine at a winning touchdown.

The room was _them_.  Even if them was going to be changing soon.

“Hi,” Barbra trilled sweetly. “How was your day?”

“Hey, sweetie.” Blaine pushed himself up into a fully sitting position. As Barbra swooped down to press a kiss against his cheek, his lips curled up into a smile even as his stomach clenched in anticipation. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

Barbra took her time sitting down, making sure her skirt was carefully tucked underneath her and that her ankles were primly crossed.

“Well,” she cleared her throat delicately, “Jason’s family is about to be in the news. It’s nothing his father did,” she hurried to assure him. “But you know Senator Randolph?”

Generally, Blaine did his best to ignore Senator Archer and Senator Randolph and their Tradition, Family, and Morality Coaltion that, among other things, emphasized ”family values” by crusading against gays and advocating for immigrant families to be torn apart.

“He was just caught stealing state funds.”

“Oh.”

Barbra giggled, “To pay for live-in male prostitutes.”

“Oh my god!” Blaine clapped his hands together in glee. “I don’t believe it!”

“It’s true! He practically had a harem living on some ranch in North Dakota. One of them did an interview. And he’s claiming that some of them started working there when they were underage. Jason says he was probably just exaggerating for the attention.”

“Have you told Sebastian yet? He’s wanted Randolph out of office since before I met him.”

“I’ll let you tell him yourself. They’ve managed to stop the release of the article until tomorrow.”

“Is Jason’s family going to be okay? You said you talked to him.”

“Well, it’s funny you should ask about him,” she batted her eyelashes and her voice dropped back to the sweetened tone that meant she was going to be asking him for something to which his gut reaction would be a vehement No. “Obviously their family is going to be under a lot of strain for the next few days. And to avoid the brunt of the media scrutiny, it would probably be best for them to go somewhere new. Somewhere the press wouldn’t expect them to be.”

“It is a hell of a reason for a vacation. And you’re going to join them?” Blaine’s heart dropped. Barbra already spent so little time at home and he had been looking forward to getting to spend a few days with her.

“Sort of.” She took a deep breath. “Actually, they’re going to come here.”

“ _Here_ , here?” he croaked.

“What better way to offset all these bad things than by celebrating our upcoming nuptials?” She enthused.  “And they can stay in at the hotel up the street, I already called to make sure there are still rooms available. They’re very eager to meet me.”

“So they’re coming here?” he repeated.

“Yes, Daddy. Jason said they’ll probably be driving and that they’re leaving tonight. I’ll go meet them for lunch tomorrow while you get the house ready and then the five of us will have dinner here. They’re very interested in seeing our home. We’ll have to make a few adjustments, of course. They already know we don’t live quite as grandly as they do but we still have a very respectable home.” Nodding her head, she looked critically around the room.

“I’m glad you think our years of hard work have created a respectable life,” he replied grimly. “And you said five?”

“Jason and myself, obviously. And his parents,” she paused and took a deep breath, “and you. ”

“I know Sebastian is upset about your announcement but—”

“It’s not that. Theydon’tknowthatyouaregay,” she rushed out. “AndtheythinkthatSebastianismymom.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just that, they’re not very excepting of homosexuality and Jason was about to tell them that you were gay when they found out about Senator Randolph. So he may have made it sound like I was raised by… you know, a mom and a dad instead of two dads.”

Blaine stared stonily at her. “Well he should probably correct them of that misapprehension or they’re going to be very surprised when they get here.”

“Or,” she fluttered her eyelashes at him, “if Sebastian weren’t here and it was just you, we could make a just a couple of changes to the décor and say that my mother was out of town for the week and they wouldn’t question anything. They’d think that our family was just like theirs.”

“We are like theirs. Except with morals and a sense of compassion.”

“I need your help, Daddy. I love him.”

“Not on this. Not in this way. I have a great life and a great family and I’m not going to hide it for their own comfort and I’m not going to let you lie to people about who we are.

“You have before. Remember my first day of school? When you told me that if anyone asked I could say that we lost my mother when I was very young and you were raising me on your own?”

“It meant a lot to your grandparents that you at least try catholic school and your teacher was a very closed minded.” He got up from the couch and started pacing back and forth. “We just wanted to protect you.”

She was curled up on the couch, clutching a throw pillow on her lap. It was the same couch they had had for almost her entire life. The same couch where she had spent her sick days watching cartoons and where she had sat every Christmas morning, eagerly waiting for be told that she could open her presents.

"Sebastian should be here for this." 

Barbra shook her head. "I'm glad you're happy together but you two can't be in the same room as each other without looking completely besotted. They would know without even looking.

You said yesterday that I would always be your baby girl. I still need you to protect me. I love Jason so, so much and he’s not like his family. Just because I'm not five anymore doesn't mean I can't still get hurt.”

It hurt him, in a way he hadn’t thought possible. He knew she wasn’t ashamed of him but it felt like it. It felt like the self-hatred he had felt as a child, in those terrible months when he was so sure there was something wrong with him because of who he liked.  

And it was going to hurt Sebastian.

But if they didn’t hurt, then she would. And their hurts he thought could heal, knowing as they did that they came from a place of love.

From the moment, she had entered his life, Blaine knew that there was nothing that he wouldn’t do for her, not if it meant keeping her safe and seeing her happy. How many times over the year had he told her that? How many times in his life had he sworn it?

Her idea was insane but he understood where it was coming from. He had too many friends with similarly disapproving parents or in-laws. The Ungers refused to acknowledge that Brant existed and only maintained their relationship with their own son because of their grandchildren.

In the grand scheme of things, the world had caused far worse things to happen then having to pretend he was straight for a night for the sake of his daughter’s heart.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t fair what Barbra was asking of them but Blaine felt like his hands were tied. It wasn’t the boy’s family that mattered. What mattered was that their daughter was happy. And despite what Jason’s family was like, Blaine trusted Barbra when she said that Jason was an upstanding gentleman who didn’t hold his family’s prejudices.

He repeated all this over and over to himself as he paced around the room.

He—no they—had raised their daughter to be strong and independent. Sure, she had gotten some of Blaine’s impulsivity, but she also had Sebastian’s level head on her shoulders. So, when she said she loved this boy and that he was a good man, he believed her.

Nineteen was still too young to be getting engaged, and he had spent almost an hour trying her out of that as he had her harebrained scheme, but it had proved unfruitful. She had stood firm and resolute, chin thrust determinedly forward as she insisted she knew what she was doing.

The Archers were under enough stress already and adding to that this visit would only make things worse in the long run. There wasn’t a single talk show, website, or news channel that wouldn’t be obsessively following the Randolph scandal. It would be too much to hope that the Archers would be ignored in the furor.

It wouldn’t really be a lie, Blaine justified to himself, to say that he and Barbra’s mother were separated, and she was away for work. Rachel was often travelling, touring the country with yet another show or, if the magazines were to be believed, splitting her time between her LA mansion, New York penthouse, and her “hometown retreat”. And just because she and Blaine had never been together didn’t make the fact that they were apart any less true.

So, Sebastian would be omitted from this trip, but it would be just this one time. And after everything calmed down, and the Archers already liked Blaine, then they could explain and get them to accept.

Or not, Barbra had joked, just as long as they had already paid for the wedding. 

After their conversation, Barbra had bounded off to go meet up with Jeff again, yelling something about needing to help him pick out something to wear for Nick’s family reunion, leaving Blaine in the apartment to wait for Sebastian by himself.

Not knowing what else to do, he had taken a shower, hoping that the hot water would help to relax him. After only a few minutes it became clear that he wouldn’t be relaxing any time soon, so he hurried through the rest of his shower routine while dwelling on the conversation he was about to have with his husband.

“Sebastian,” he practiced to himself as he got out of the shower, “there’s something I need to tell you.” He shook his head and wiped the fog from the mirror.

“Sebastian,” he said, addressing his reflection and pitching his voice differently, “there’s something we need to talk about.” It sounded better but still wasn’t right.

Maybe he wouldn’t need to lead with it, they could talk about something else first. He would love to hear about the Randolph scandal and at least then Blaine could get him into a good mood before dropping the latest bombshell on him. Plus, it would lead perfectly into the Archers’ visit.

“Oh, and speaking of the Archers…” He tried as he toweled off his hair, “the funniest thing.”

“We were talking about the Archers?”

Blaine spun around to find Sebastian leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, and looking equally amused and concerned—a common sight when he was questioning his husband’s sanity.

“Umm, no. Not yet. But we will be.”

“Do you rehearse all of our conversations ahead of time?”

“Umm, not all of them?”

And then he was rushing through the story about the Senator Randolph and rambling on about the Archers. “And so,” he concluded, his voice dropping to something just above a whisper. “they’re coming here for the weekend. Jason and his family. To meet Barbra.

And Jason knows about us.” Blaine started to reach a hand out for Sebastian but stopped halfway to him, settling instead for working his wedding ring anxiously up and down his finger. “He knows about you and me. That we’re married. But his parents don’t, they think that I’m,” he cleared his throat, “… still with her mother. And that Rachel’s mother is out of town this weekend.”

“Well they’re not wrong about that,” Sebastian muttered darkly. “And who do they think I am in this equation?”

Blaine found himself wishing that he could have at least been clothed for this conversation. Logically, he knew it wouldn’t have made it any easier but at least he would feel better, more composed and he wouldn’t be shivering against the cooling air.

“That’s what we needed to talk about. They haven’t been told anything about you and we—Barbra and I, that is— thought it would be better to ease them into the idea. For dinner it would just be the five of us.”

He had hoped the guilt and shame he was feeling would ease once he had said it. That Sebastian would magically understand; he’d smile reassuringly as he expressed his disappointment, but he would get it.

“Oh,” Sebastian said, completely blank-faced.

“It’s just for this weekend. With everything they’re going through right now, they just wouldn’t be very recep—”

“I get it.” Sebastian cut him off with a finality that meant Blaine was getting at least half of what he wanted. Sebastian actually did get it, even if he hated what he was hearing. Blaine remembered it from their early days together, as Sebastian was switching careers and was constantly being shut down and rejected. “Why should I be here for such an important moment in your daughter’s life?”

Blaine finally did reach out for Sebastian, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. “Our daughter,” he said sternly, looking Sebastian square in the eyes.

“Why don’t you remind her of that,” he spat, yanking himself away and leaving Blaine off-kilter.

Blaine knew that, despite everything, a part of Sebastian never stopped questioning his role in Barbra’s life. That sometimes he looked at her and saw Blaine reflected back and no traces of himself. Sometimes it made it easy for Sebastian to forget all the ways she did take after him. And that, at the end of the day, it was his approval that she measured her life by more than anyone else.

 “It’s only for a weekend. They’ll be here two days, tops.”

“This time, maybe. And the next time? Every holiday from here on out? Do we just continue the lie? When’s the truth going to come out? When we’re both walking her down the aisle? Or will that privilege only be for you?”

“We can deal with all of that later,” Blaine said soothingly “She’s just asking for this weekend. We can give her that. Just one weekend.”

“Fine,” Sebastian bristled. “You don’t want me here? I won’t be here.”

* * *

Blaine spent restlessly tossing and turning. It had been years since he had slept alone. Even with the extra blanket the bed felt empty and cold. Blaine had always said it was too big. What did they need a California king for? Especially when he slept wrapped so tightly around Sebastian that he might as well be a second pair of pajamas.

And after a night in it alone he was clearly right. No one needed a California king.

When he managed to drag himself to the kitchen the next morning it was with significantly less energy than he normally possessed. He glared vehemently at the coffee maker as it took too long to drip into the pot.

"Someone is grumpy this morning," Barbra observed around a mouthful of sugary cereal, oblivious to the damage she had unintentionally caused. 

"Sebastian didn't come home last night,” he said as he slammed the coffee cup down and hissed when the steaming liquid sloshed over the side onto his hand. "You better really, really love this boy, Babs."

Sebastian often left after a fight, but he always came home before the night was over, even if it was just to sleep in the guest room or on the couch. He had, of his own volition, promised Blaine that he would do as much about a month before he had moved in with them. Because both their tempers ran too hot and he would need his space and time to clear his head. But no matter what they fought about, they were family and he would always be home.

"I do, Daddy. I really do." She nodded in doe-eyed affirmation. 

"Good." Violently he tore off half the roll of paper towels to sop up his spilled coffee. "At least I'm not destroying my marriage over nothing."

She bit her lip in concern. "It's not really that bad, is it? It'll be okay once you talk it out, won't it?"

"I'm sure it will," he lied, his paternal instinct kicking in to shelter his daughter. He cursed that instinct. It was the same one that had gotten them into the damn mess in the first place.

"Wonderful," she smiled contentedly. With those unpleasant thoughts behind her, she straightened up and flicked her hair over her shoulder authoritatively. "So the decorators are coming in around 1. Fortunately, they don't have much to do. Just a couple little things. Everything will be ready when you get home. Then all we have to do is run over conversation topics for tonight and make sure everything is ready for tomorrow."

“Remind me again,” he sighed tiredly, “why we need decorators to redo our home for this?”

“Because, Daddy,” she smiled patronizingly and batter her eyelashes, “while you two have done a fine job of outfitting our home, it’s just… well it is obvious that it was decorated by two men. They won’t have to do much, just removing a couple little things here, adding a few womanly touches there. It won’t be anything too big, you’ll see.” Gleefully she clapped her hands together. "I can't wait for you to meet Jason."

"Mmm," Blaine agreed, staring into his coffee.

* * *

 

Throughout the morning he tried to put the entire debacle out of his mind to focus on his Saturday morning clinic. Whatever redecorating his possibly-insane daughter had apparently decided was necessary was the last thing he cared to think about. Even his worry for Sebastian had to be pushed aside; he had known from the moment he made his decision to participate in her ridiculous plan that there were going to be consequences and that was something he would have to live with. 

Going home at lunchtime only made it worse. As part of the redecorating all of their family pictures had been taken down. Replaced, instead, with pictures of just him and Barbra or else Barbra by herself. Most of the books on Sebastian’s shelves had been boxed up and replaced with old medical books that had been dragged out of storage and a new throw and pillows had been added to the couch; they were lighter than the navies and dark greens Sebastian had always favored.

"I'll be back later," he yelled towards Barbra's bedroom, not even checking to see if she was in but unable to spend another minute at home.

On autopilot he drove away from the city and before he knew it his car was crunching up the gravel of a familiar sprawling three-story farmhouse. He parked in the lot next to a beat-up Chevy. Bypassing the main house, he headed to the old garage located around back that had been converted into Sebastian’s office and a studio apartment. 

He sighed in relief at the sight of his husband's car.

Letting himself in though the side door, he poked his head into the office to see if Sebastian was there. 

"Can I help you?" Quinn, the blonde twenty-something assistant director of the facility, asked distractedly from behind a precariously leaning mountain of papers. "Oh." Her face slid from a courteous smile to a scowling frown at the sight of Blaine. "It's you."

"Yeah." He swallowed hard. He and Quinn had always gotten on fairly well, but whenever he and Sebastian were in a fight, she was the one he really heard about it from. While Sebastian was happy enough to just let them sit in frosty silence until he got over what was upsetting him, Quinn was more than happy to lecture him for hours. "Have you seen Sebastian?" He asked, readying to bolt from the room.

"No." She snapped. 

"I'll… I’ll just wait upstairs then?"

"He won't even tell me what happened." She fixed him with her steeliest glare. "Yesterday he was over the moon about Barbra being home. Today he's barely said a word, except to ask which lawyers the Flemings used for their divorce. I don't know what the hell you did in the last 24 hours, but you damn well better fix it." 

Even though Quinn was almost fifteen years younger and seated at her desk across the room, Blaine still found himself cowering in the face of her rage. "That's why I'm here. I really, really messed up," the words fell from his lips in a whisper. He paused to chew on his lower lip. "He isn't really thinking about a divorce, is he?"

"He's in the main house," she said after a long moment of consideration, ignoring his question entirely. "If he comes in, instead of running away at the sight of your car in the parking lot, I'll make sure he goes up." 

"Thank you." He gave her a half smile, the best he could manage, and a little wave before making his way upstairs. 

"You know how he is," she called after him, halting in the middle of the sentence as though unsure the words wanted to be said. After a moment of silence, she continued, voice more teasing, "You're both so overdramatic, I'm surprised you've lasted this long." 

Feeling a stirring of hope, he let himself into the loft. Immediately he went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Although he hadn't been there in years, he still knew where everything was kept. It wasn't hard, considering it practically mirrored where they kept things in their own kitchen.  

When he was done, he walked to the other side of the studio and curled up on the end of the bed to wait for his husband. 

He remembered a time before the place was even an idea in Sebastian’s head, back when they were teetering between seriously hooking up and dating. How his phone had rung one morning just before 2:30 and Sebastian had said “I know it’s late, but can you come over? Please?”

It was before Blaine had told Sebastian about Barbra and Blaine had almost said no but Sebastian’s had sounded upset and… something else that Blaine had ever heard in his voice before. He had promised he’d be there before scrambling to find someone to be there in case Barbra woke up. By the time he had made it to Sebastian’s, almost 45 minutes later, Sebastian had looked exhausted and had been shaking, although whether that had been from the exhaustion or something else Blaine never found out. He had also been drunk, and it had taken Blaine another 20 minutes (and glass of bourbon) to coax him into talking.

Blaine knew that Sebastian was an anesthesiologist who had been working at a local hospital for three years and he had heard more than once about how Sebastian had never worked as much as he had that summer, ever since one of the other anesthesiologists broke his arm and leg in a motorcycle accident and they couldn’t get anyone in regularly to help with the work load, extending the other’s shifts to 4 24-hour shifts a week.

What he hadn’t known about as the kids. He had, of course, known about them generally. The spate of attacks on the LGBT community, often teens and kids who did nothing more than “look gay” but not always, was something that they all were aware of. It had been the first time that Blaine had ever felt scared of his own home and, like many others, had him considering whether or not he should move.

Most of those kids ended up at Sebastian’s hospital and he told Blaine about how he had ended up assigned to many of their surgeries.  Not only had Sebastian had to see their injuries first hand, he also had to hear his colleagues debate which of them may or may not have asking for it.

“It’s something you heard about as kids but…” Sebastian had said. “Some of these kids don’t even have homes to go to anymore. One of the boys, his family didn’t even come to the hospital. Because he’s gay. Someone beat the fucking shit out of him and his parents won’t even talk to him.”

Blaine had more than heard about it. When it rained his wrist still ached where it had been shattered, and sometimes in the quiet stillness of the night he could still hear his parents fighting about him and, in a moment of exceptional anger, his father telling him he was lucky they were letting him stay; his grandfather wouldn’t have. Later, as Sebastian fretted over finances and whether this was something he could actually afford, he would tell his boyfriend about all of that. But at the time he had just reached out a hand and laid it on Sebastian’s thigh, letting the heat of it soak into him, reminding him he wasn’t alone.

“His aunt is taking him in, or a cousin, I think. But if she wasn’t… There’s nowhere safe for him to go. Not around here. Maybe New York…”  He had let his head sink back into the couch in defeat. “Someone should do something,” he had murmured as his eyes dropped closed.

Sebastian hadn’t set out to be that person. He just wanted to find a local organization he could donate to. And when there hadn’t been anything sufficient nearby, he started looking for someone who could start something, a home, maybe, for LGBT youth who had either run away or been kicked out of their homes. But trying to organize other people had gotten him nowhere. He couldn’t find anyone to actual start up place; he could find people who would put up money for it and people who would work there but no one to run it.

But by that point, Sebastian had been consumed by the idea that a home like that was something the city needed and if no one else was going to do it, he would. He wouldn’t have to work closely with the kids, just provide them with somewhere safe to live. And it would be a business just like anything else.

Blaine had spent the next year and a half helping Sebastian work towards his MBA and being dragged around to look at buildings that had the potential to be the new home.

The farmhouse hadn’t been Blaine’s first choice but after they had seen it, Sebastian couldn’t imagine it being anywhere else.

 “I was told that if I didn’t come up my car would be set on fire. Knowing Quinn, I would be in it,” Sebastian’s voice broke through his memories. “I’m surprised you’re here.”

Blaine shrugged uncomfortably. “You weren’t at home. Where else would I be?”

“One would think it might be prudent for you to be getting ready for the in-laws.”

“It’s Barbra’s mess. She can deal with it.”

Sebastian snorted. “That’s a first.”

As much as Blaine protested that he didn’t spoil his daughter, he always had. Even Sebastian had a hard time saying no to her when she was pouting. It was something about the specific way her eyes and lips quavered in tandem as her shoulders slumped forward as she shrank in on herself.

“So,” Blaine struggled for nonchalance, “should I be looking at divorce lawyers too?” His voice broke over the last words, rising too high in the middle before plummeting down and settling in a tensed, nauseous ball in the pit of his stomach as he imagined a future where he wouldn’t be with his husband.

Sebastian shrugged, half-hearted and dismissive. Blaine sighed in relief; if it was something Sebastian had actually been seriously considering, he would have let him know.

“Come home,” he begged. “Please.”

“I’m not hiding in my own house. Or for the rest of my life.”

“It’s this one trip. Their family is in the middle of a huge scandal. It’ll blow over as soon as a new one comes up and they’ll be more reasonable then. Or Barbra will care less. Or we’ll have more time to figure this out. Together”

Sebastian cast his eye over to the still unmade bed. “I’ll be home tomorrow night,” he relented. His begrudging scowl bespoke the fact that it would not be a joyous homecoming.

“Come home with me. Now,” Blaine reached out and grabbed Sebastian’s hand, pulling it close to his own body.

Sebastian pulled his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s 2 in the afternoon. I still have work to do.”

“It’s Saturday,” Blaine started to argue before remembering that it would be years before he could hold the higher ground in any argument again. “For dinner then? You should be there.”

“Barbra has made it more than clear that I’m not invited.”

“She wants you there. We both do.”

“She’s done a spectacular job showing it.”

“She’s to young to understand what she wants. _I_ want you there. I need you there. This is a huge moment. For both of us.”

“You told me to leave.” Sebastian drew even further away as he snapped, “Stop acting innocent. Stop making it sound like you had no part in this. You have just as much a role in this as she does.”

Blaine’s jaw tightened as he tried to cover how much Sebastian’s words hurt him.  He shuffled forward, closing the distance between them again. “I know. I know I did. And I’m taking it back now. Either you’re at dinner tonight or they can go find somewhere else to eat.”

“We’re not ruining our daughter’s life just because—”

“I’m serious, Sebastian. This dinner is only happening if you’re there.”

In frustration, Sebastian scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’ll go. But as a family friend. Or her uncle. That’s what I would have been called a few decades ago anyways.”

“That’s a change. What happened to not hiding?”

“What is parenthood if not sacrifices? We’ve always known that her happiness is more important than ours. I just forgot that for a while.”

“You didn’t forget it. What she asked is… beyond egregious. If anyone else asked it of you, I would say its unforgiveable.” Blaine shook his head and took another experimental step closer, his body slanting inward, waiting for an embrace, standing close enough that Sebastian had to tilt his head down to look into Blaine’s eyes.

 “It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Blaine responded distractedly, eyes focusing on the way Sebastian’s throat relaxed and tightened as he swallowed.

“So,” Sebastian stepped away again and went over to the kitchenette to rummage through the cabinet. “I’ll be an old friend, staying with you while my home is being redone.” He glanced around the loft, “I have been meaning to do a repaint up here. Maybe get some new furniture. That bed is older than our relationship.”

Blaine patted the bed fondly. He had many good memories of it from the early days of their relationship. “Isn’t that weird? Why wouldn’t you just get a hotel?”

Sebastian grinned wide and dangerous, almost malicious. “I would have. But your wife wouldn’t stand for it.”

“My wife?” Blaine spluttered. “While I have always thought your legs would look killer in a dress, I don’t have a wife.”

“My legs would look killer in anything, killer,” Sebastian leered. “Without a wife, though, it will be hard to sell me.” 

Blaine sighed and mentally began flipping through the list of women knew who would be willing to help out in such an absurd situation. Tina was the obvious choice; they had been friends since high school and she had known Barbra since she was a baby. But, even distracted as the Archers were with the scandal surrounding their lives, at least one of them was bound to notice that Barbra and her “mother” were of different races. Julia might work, if she was available. Her own children had been driving her crazy lately and she would probably enjoy a night away and, while it might be a stretch, it wasn’t entirely inconceivable that she and Blaine could make a child that looked like Barbra. Of course the ideal candidate would be…

“Rachel,” the name tumbled from his lips. “I think she has a home nearby. I can see if she’s around.”

“Mmm,” Sebastian hummed through pursed lips.

He and Blaine had never quite seen eye to eye on Barbra’s birth mother. Sebastian would have been more than happy to have excluded her from their lives entirely but Blaine insisted Barbra at least know who she was and had been always willing to allow an open connection, should either of them want it. “We’ve already established my opinion matters the least here. Talk to Barbra. If she agrees, who am I to say no?”

* * *

"Blaine Anderson!" Rachel jumped up from her seat, the skirt of her blue and white polka dotted dress fluttering around her thighs. With a broad smile, she enveloped him in a tight hug. "It's been forever. How have you been?"

"Rachel," he returned the hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "You're as beautiful as ever."

"Always the flatterer," she laughed, retaking her seat but not letting go of Blaine's hand. 

"It's not flattery if it's true." 

Playfully she ducked her head low and her hand danced up to hide a fake blush that wasn't quite appearing on her cheeks. "And you're just as handsome and dapper as always." 

"Don't act as if you don't notice the grey," he chastised. Self-consciously, he brushed his fingers over his hair that, every day, was becoming more salt-than-pepper.

"Signs of a life well lived. They only make you handsomer," she assured. 

Blaine smiled. "This place takes me back." It had been a lifetime ago since he had last visited the bar and absolutely nothing had changed about it. The same beat up old jukebox still stood dejectedly in the corner. The bartender was the same, whistling the same three tunes as he waited for the next round of orders. Even the posters hadn't changed, just faded with time. "My year of rebellion." 

"And what a year it was. Sold out theatres in every city. I never wanted it to end." 

"I didn't either," he sighed a little wistfully.

After being rejected from his first-choice medical school, Blaine had bucked the idea of becoming a doctor altogether. At the encouragement of a friend he instead went in for an audition for a touring production of West Side Story, only to be cast as Tony opposite Rachel's Maria. The role had, the critics agreed, launched her career and could have been the start of his too. Instead, days before he was meant to sign an extension contract, he accepted a place at Johns Hopkins. 

Rachel sighed. "I was so very painfully in love with you. I had our entire wedding planned out by Phoenix." 

"A fall wedding? Nice and simple?" He teased. 

Rachel gasped, offended at the very idea. "The end of June. Life will be a honeymoon," she recited. "And if by small you mean a few hundred of our closest friends, family, and members of the press..." She took a careful sip of her wine. "It's good you met Sebastian."

"And I got my nice, small September wedding after all." 

"I pined for you so much after you left the tour," she sighed. 

"If I recall, you managed to find yourself a very handsome and rather long-term distraction." Playfully he nudged her knee with his own under the table. 

She groaned, burying her face in her hands, "Don't remind me. That relationship almost destroyed my career."

Blaine grimaced in sympathy, having forgotten that part of the story. He had been too engrossed in his residency to follow the spiraling downfall of their relationship as closely as he had the whirlwind beginnings of Rachel Berry and Jesse St. James.

"And then I found you again. And I finally got what I always wanted," she giggled. 

"Oh, what a night," he hummed. "I haven't had tequila since then," he laughed. "Who knew I would get so handsy?" 

"Handsy?" Rachel practically shrieked. "Handsy was you at the Christmas cast party. You, sir," she poked his chest, "went way beyond handsy." 

"Twice, if memory serves."

"And a half, just before morning."

They drank in silence for a few minutes, each wrapped up in memories of the past.

"How is Barbra?" Rachel asked quietly. "Does she look like me?"

"She does. But everyone says she has my eyes." He reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone. "I have pictures. If you want to see." He set the phone on the table, halfway between them, an offer she could choose to accept or ignore. 

"Could I?" Her hands shook as she picked up the phone. Intently she scrolled through the pictures, looking closely at each of them and drinking in her daughter. "She's so tall!" Rachel laughed as she lingered over a vacation picture of Barbra and Blaine. 

"Almost 5'9". Seb's influence, is the family joke." 

"And she definitely has your eyes. And your nose, thank god." Rachel ran a finger over the screen. "Growing up, I never thought I would understand my mother. But it turns out I'm exactly like her." She gave a bitter and resentful laugh. “Or worse.”

She had barely even hesitated, all those years ago, when giving up her child. Her career had only just been starting and was too important to throw away or put on hold. She had shown up on Blaine's doorstep as a spur of the moment, frantic decision but after that she hadn’t looked back.

"It was different for Barbra, I think. Surrogacy is more common nowadays and she always knew who you were. I try—we try—to do little things for her to know you. We have Chinese for dinner at Christmas and hang a little dreidel on the tree every year and she knows every song Barbra and Patti ever sang." 

Rachel let out a watery laugh. "That's my girl." 

"She's seen you. Twice," he admitted. "In Funny Girl and your first solo concert tour. Seb brought her." 

She nodded tightly but didn't say anything as she kept scrolling through the pictures. It took her a long time. Both Blaine and Sebastian took an ungodly number of pictures of their daughter whenever the opportunity presented itself. Too many, by far, to fit on his phone or even their computer. But in preparation for this meeting he had gone through the most important of the albums and selected a few hundred photos for his phone. 

"You two did well. I bet she never even needed me."  

Biting his lip, Blaine let his finger circle the rim on his glass. Selfishly, he wanted that to be true. He hoped that he and Sebastian were enough for their daughter. That their love had compensated for a lack of a mother. That two presents at Father's Day made up for the Sunday in May they let go by without comment. "She needs you now."

"Money?" Rachel didn't look surprised, just dismayed as she reached for her wallet. 

Blaine stretched out his hand and rested it on top if her purse, pinning it to the table and stopping her from getting into it. "No. She needs  _you_ , Rach. She needs her mother."

She nodded as her eyes misted over. "Anything." 

Blaine signaled the waiter for another round of drinks and began to explain their predicament. 

 

 


End file.
